Stolen Kiss (The Turners of Copper Island #2)

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Jason

“ W hen’s the wedding?” Jason asked idly, flipping through a chef’s industry magazine. He was hunched over the metal table, one hand under his chin, the other turning the pages too fast to read anything. He wasn’t concentrating on the words, he was reminiscing about Heidi’s lips.

“Christmas Eve,” Archer replied.

Jason stood, tossed the magazine aside so forcefully, it skidded into the ever present sink of soapy water. Erica laughed from across the room but soon stopped when she looked at his face. Her eyes widened with her lips sealed shut holding back her giggle.

“That’s eight-nine fucking days,” he bellowed across the kitchens in Edward Hall.

“Wow, I forgot about that,” Archer replied.

“Impressive,” Erica replied.

“What did you forget? To tell me I’ve got to take a bride’s wedding menu and practice it, plus make a wedding cake?”

“No, that anyone can give you a date and you can work out how many days it is.”

“Is that like a superpower?” Erica asked.

“Can we focus before I lose my ever loving mind?” Jason barked.

“Is there something that vexes thee?” Archer said, full-on laughing. “He has a date tonight and I don’t think he knows what to wear,” Archer staged whispered to Erica.

“Do you need help?” Her offer was genuine, but she was still stifling her laughter.

Jason gave Erica a stare to silence the giggle playing on her mouth.

“Okay gang, what you got for me,” Stan Meyers came into the kitchen with his booming voice.

Since the first time he met Stan, Jason had gained confidence with the wedding business. Stan was making a hell of an impression getting enquiries. His daughter, Opaline, did most of the social media and was the salesperson he had to make this enterprise work. Stan had kept that his assistant was his daughter from us until we saw her second name for payroll. It didn’t matter to us who helped the business be a success.

Remi was the first wedding they had planned but due to an NDA they couldn’t use it as a sales pitch until Vogue released the pictures. With no other weddings to use as examples, because Archer and Erica didn’t think they needed to take pictures to show off the venue, they had to wait to show off what they could do. If Jason’s aunt had been more forth coming with the details of the business, they would’ve given it more consideration at his brother’s wedding.

Instead they had pictures on their phones, half of them drunk ones, blurred with grinning people in them. Not exactly the professional wedding photos they needed.

Opaline had suggested staged photos with fake brides and grooms but Archer wouldn’t hear of tricking people coming to the island before they had done their first professional event.

“Our first wedding is in eight-nine days,” Jason grumbled as he crashed about in the kitchen.

“Is there a date with that, I can’t work out when eighty-nine days is,” Stan said, showing his impatience at the cryptic answer.

“Christmas Eve,” Archer, Erica and Jason said together.

“Wow, okay, we need to get working on this. Has the bride and groom filled out the form?”

“The bride has sent her own form,” Jason muttered.

“She’s not a diva, there’s nothing bizarre or extravagant on this list,” Erica said coming to her friend’s defence.

“Who is the bride?” Stan asked.

“Remi Speckle,” Erica said.

“The actress?” Stan let out a whistle through his teeth. “Go big or go home.”

“Exactly. Why couldn’t we start small?” Jason asked for the millionth time. Truthfully he wasn’t all that worried, his immediate concern was his date that evening.

“Jason, it’s going to be fine. You are a superb chef, what are you worrying about? We’ve got three months to get ready. It will probably be the only time we’re planning for one event at any time. After that, we’ll be handling multi-events and that’s when it will get crazy,” Stan said.

“You’re not filling me with hope and optimism.”

Archer chuckled as he brought Erica into a hug.

“What time are you meeting Heidi?” Archer asked.

“Heidi Shaw?” Stan asked.

“Yep, he’s got a date with her tonight.”

“She’s a lovely lass.”

Jason wanted to agree, but was irritated Archer had let it out the bag. “Can we keep this quiet for now? We’re two people getting a drink, no need to get excited.”

Jason shot a glare to Archer who grimaced and mouthed sorry .

“Did Maggie iron your shirt?” Stan asked.

“Fuck off,” Jason said good-naturedly and didn’t try to hide his grin.

“Don’t forget to wear a pullover and a jacket in case you need to give her your jacket if she gets cold,” Archer said.

“I don’t need dating advice from you, brother.”

Stan rocked back on his heels, laughing with Archer at the sparring match between the two brothers.

“All right then, I’ll get Opaline on to the list and get things moving. I’ll check in if anything looks like we can’t pull it off,” Stan said already on the move to leave Edward Hall kitchens.

“Thanks, Stan.”

“We’re off too, over to Turner Hall. I need to move the final bits out of my old room and then we’re going into town. Bailey has some news for us. Do you want to come?” Archer said once Stan had left.

“Nah, I’ll stay up here. Say hi to Cynthia for me,” Jason said smirking.

“You’re the only one she has time for. So I bet I’ll get a smile from her if I say that.”

“I’m not so sure about that. I can’t imagine why she likes me more than you lot.”

“I don’t think we’ll ever know why she does the stuff she does. But if we get a sweet piece of land, then it doesn’t matter.”

Archer and Erica waved as they left the kitchens via the back door and Jason was left to his thoughts about the date later on. He mentally went through his clothes in the cottage and didn’t think he had a smart enough jacket to wear. A trip to his old rooms was on the cards too but that would have to be later after he went through the options Remi had suggested for the wedding.

A few hours later he changed out of his chef whites and went for a run along the beach. He’d missed the familiarity of the island but not the heartache that came with it. When he left to go to the rigs, he had his heart broken when Heidi ended things. Then when he came back for his dad’s funeral he didn’t see her and then he was back on the rigs. They all returned for their grandfather’s funeral and it was even sadder occasion as their aunt went from frosty to stone cold.

For both funerals the four of them stayed on the island for two days each time. So for the last eleven years, Jason didn’t have happy memories of the place. If he dug deep, he didn’t have any happy memories since his mother left. The only light in his life was Heidi for three months.

Jason was four and a half when his mother left the island, but he didn’t meet Heidi until he was twenty-two years. She was like a beacon and he wanted to bask in her light.

Now at thirty-three he was keen to know if he could rekindle things with Heidi or at least get to the bottom of why she called it off all those years ago. She willingly let him hoist her up onto the wall and didn’t flinch when he held onto her tight to watch the gig racing and she didn’t move away when he gave her a light kiss on the mouth. He had hopes and when he entered the grand foyer of Turner Hall, he decided he’d give it his best shot until Christmas. If he couldn’t get her back into his life, then he would leave the island. He knew plenty of chefs that would kill for a spot as head chef in Edward Hall kitchens so Archer wouldn’t miss him.

He’d miss Archer and Luke and Daisy when they returned but if Heidi didn’t want him, then there was no reason to stay.

“Two nephews in one day. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jason looked up to see his aunt standing at the top of the staircase, one hand on the bannister.

“I’ve come to see if my good jackets are still in the wardrobe.”

“Why?”

“I might need one for this evening.”

“Why?”

“I’m going out on a date. It’s late September and if I remember correctly, it get chilly in the evenings.”

“Who is the lady?”

Jason had run up the stairs two at a time and walked to where his aunt was standing. She was in olive-coloured slacks and a matching twinset. Her hair was perfectly styled and with a touch of makeup. He’d never put her at seventy-nine, but then she’d had a comfortable life, wanting for nothing.

“An old friend,” Jason said hedging.

His aunt was taking too much interest, and he knew from old that the more she was interested the more she was going to meddle.

“Does she have a name?”

“I’m not saying until I know I’ll be seeing her again. No point getting your hopes up that another of the Turner children has found a spouse.”

“Sounds like you’re not hanging about getting a wife.”

“I’m thirty-three. I’d like children while I have the energy.”

His aunt gave him a shrewd look and narrowed her eyes.

“Is she an old girlfriend?”

“I’ve got to run if I’m going to make it on time. You wouldn’t want me to be late, would you?”

She cleared her throat and straightened her cardigan. Jason gave her a kiss on the cheek and power walked down the corridor to his room.

“Thanks for giving Erica the land,” he said over his shoulder but she’d gone.

He entered his room, twisting the knob correctly first time. His old wardrobe was filled with clothes from formal dinner jackets to his surfing gear. Flicking through the hangers he dismissed half of them until he found his old battered leather jacket. Perfect. The last time he wore it was the best night of his life. He wondered if Heidi would recognise it.

Grabbing a few other pieces of clothing, he hightailed it out of his old room and Turner Hall. Thankfully his aunt was nowhere to be seen. He ran down the back stairs and skidded to a stop in the old kitchens and almost ran into Bailey.

“Sorry Bailey,” Jason said to his back.

“Not a problem, is there something you needed?”

Bailey turned with a hanger in one hand and a pair of shoes in the other.

“Bailey,” Jason said. “You didn’t have to polish my shoes.”

“You are going on a date to impress a lady. Having scuffed shoes will not achieve that.”

Bailey was so proper it made Jason’s teeth ache. He adored the man and valued the standards he held at Turner Hall. He knew how to wear anything, what the protocol was for everything and knew the history of Turner Hall and Copper Island like he’d lived the last four hundred years. He was a third generation footman and learned everything he knew from his father and grandfather.

“I hope they are the correct colour for what you’re wearing,” Bailey said.

They were. He was wearing dark-coloured jeans with a white shirt that was in Bailey’s left hand. The black shoes in Bailey’s right hand were exactly what he was planning to wear.

“Thank you Bailey,” Jason said. “And thank Maggie too for the shirt ironing. I promise I won’t ask often.”

“We are here to look after you, even though you’re over at the cottages. There isn’t an awful lot to do with only Miss Turner in the house. Maggie and I argued over who was going to iron the shirt. She won.”

“She always does,” they both said at the same time.

Jason said goodbye and walked back to his cottage. Archer and Erica weren’t in their back terrace and the house looked locked up. He was grateful as he didn’t need the ribbing before his date. He was nervous enough as it was.